


caught (red-wristed)

by Ive_never_read_fluff



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ive_never_read_fluff/pseuds/Ive_never_read_fluff
Summary: Janus is too caught up in the adrenaline to realize he got caught.Almost.
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders
Comments: 2
Kudos: 92





	caught (red-wristed)

**Author's Note:**

> .. yes that title is supposed to be a pun- 
> 
> No extra TWs, but lmk if I missed one, <3!!

Panicked, or maybe just desperate and rushed, or maybe even an adrenaline rush, Janus put his blade to his skin and cut into it. 

He needed this, to get his blade to slice his skin. 

He didn't care about saving space for tommorow, for the days after, he wasn't thinking about later right now. 

He wasn't considering that if he used up all his space now, he'd have to face those fucking dire consequences of those heavy and violent suicidal thoughts. 

If he didn't cut for one day, he'd be completely fucked over. 

The last time he was clean for more than one day, his fourth suicide attempt happened. 

Just a few days ago, he fell asleep instead of cutting and the next day was terrible, but he realized his mistake and he tried to prevent another attempt, so he contacted the national suicide hotline ( _which he hadn't done since March, despite the two suicide attempts after that last time with the hotline_ ). 

He was able to be calmed down, this time. 

Janus was very thankful he could notice the signs: first, suicidal thoughts, intrusive thoughts about cutting and how he could kill himself, then the fucking apathy. 

Once he hit apathy, he was in the danger zone. 

Last time he was left alone during the apathy, was his fourth attempt. 

He made sure to talk to someone once he hit apathy. 

But right now, as he frantically looked for more places to cut, that wasn't his focus. 

He'd completely ruined his wrist ( _which he was supposed to save for Monday, because of how easy it is to access, so he could just slice a few times while in the bathroom, pretending to use it so he could go back to the other sides normally_ ) and considerably fucked up his right arm, before pausing, his hand was shaking, fuck, where else could he cut? 

His thigh! 

Yes, yes, okay.. he moved the razor down to his right thigh and started cutting, the barely scabbed over cuts ( _why do his thigh cuts take so long to heal? It's annoying.._ ) stung more than usual as he added new ones on top. 

The stinging would probably be extremely unpleasant if he wasn't so frantic, fucked on adrenaline, rushed. 

He was caught up in his own head, he hadn't realized the others were home. 

He didn't notice the shift, didn't notice the noise. 

Normally, while cutting, he was very attentive ( _something he's quite proud of_ ) , but today, right now, was the exception. 

He usually waited until about 1:37am to start his maintenance. 

That's what he called it, maintenance time, because that's what it is. 

Maintaining his life, it's helping his suicidal thoughts and working to prevent a fifth attempt, it's just maintenance, a chore you get bored of, that you probably should stop, but it's maintenance. 

Yeah, it hurts sometimes and yeah, it's unpleasant and the last thing you feel like doing but it's essential. 

He'd usually do maintenance then, but the atmosphere and feel of his current time felt right. 

Felt like it'd be the perfect time to cut, to watch the blood coat his fingers as he keep his ruthless pace of slicing up, it was about 5:23pm.

Golden hour.

It was really the perfect time to cut.

He loved the whole.. vibe, surrounding it.

Plus, the others were out in the Imagination, which meant he didn't have to clean up immediately and could get more relief. 

But all to soon, he'd gotten caught up in it. 

He'd gotten panicked, for a reason he can't remember.

What he originally planned to do, the space he originally wanted to cut, wasn't enough. 

He needed more, he wanted more.

So, he had rose his razor to the skin next to it, rose the razor over an area of skin that, upon first glance, didn't appear to have any scars.

He hesitated, if he did this, would he have enough space for Monday? 

He lowered it anyway, despite his doubts and how much he told himself he shouldn't, he's just wasting space- but he made the first cut, and those thoughts disappeared with the rising blood of the fresh cuts.

His cuts hadn't be.. impressive, lately.

They weren't gaping much, they were so disgustingly surface level. 

Janus knew that that wasn't a good mindset to have, not a good way to think, but he was a 'dark side' after all.

He's bad, the villain, the bad guy, evil, terrible, anyway. 

His cutting sped up, and his thigh was pouring blood, his blood rag was completely encased in the red color. 

Shame, he'd washed it just yesterday.

Oh well.

Tears were streaming down his face, his hands were shaking pretty badly, and his breaths came out shakily, unsteady. 

He was so absorbed in his.. activity, to notice his door opening.

Almost.

Right before the door was fully opened, Janus turned to face the door, panic seeped into his heart, as he put the blood rag along with the blade away, under his cover.

He was glad he was on his bed, and that his blanket was so close.

As the door opened fully, and revealed Patton, Janus could only hope he was fast enough. 

Patton came into his room, upon seeing Janus his eyes widened, and he gasped. 

It was then that Janus realized he hadn't tried to cover his cuts, and the amount of blood spilling from them.

Fucking hell, Janus.

Janus is sure he looked exactly like a deer caught in headlights.

Patton stayed over by the door, seemingly at a lose for words, and not knowing what to do.

Janus wanted to lie, to attempt to explain away what Patton's seeing, but as he opened his mouth, he discovered that he couldn't speak.

He supposed he was too scared, surprised, shocked. 

Patton suddenly snapped out of whatever trance he was in, and ran towards Janus.

Janus' mind was blank, even the panic couldn't reach him.

"Janus?!" Patton asked, his eyes wide with concern and something else Janus couldn't decipher.

Janus found himself numbing, staring at the wall behind Patton. 

Good, good, because he had no idea what to do in his current situation. 

Janus slumped, as he heard Patton calling out for the others.

Well, he's surely fucked now.

Shit.

Fucking, goddammit.

There's noise, probably talking, and he sees the blurred form of Roman, Logan, Virgil and Remus. 

He remembers feeling warm and seeing the white-red blur ( _Roman_ ) pick him up before he blacks out.

The next thing he knows, he's back in reality, laying on the couch in the common room ( _living room_ ). 

After a few seconds, he realizes almost his entire arm and his thigh is covered in bandages.

Someone, probably Logan, must've cleaned his cuts. 

.. it seems a bit excessive.. how much damage did Janus do to himself? 

And what time is it?

It takes Janus a few minutes to realize he needs to get up to did any of that out.

Janus tried to turn himself over, so he wasn't facing the couch, but his arms fucking hurt like nothing he's ever done before. 

He hissed, and immediately heard shuffling.

"Janus? You awake?" It sounded like Roman. 

Oh, Roman picked him up to carry him out here, didn't he? 

Janus' immediate thought was, "No." 

He said that out loud, unable to keep it to himself in his tired, pained haze. 

"Oh, goodness- you gave us quite the fright, you know," Roman said, his voice a tad raspy, as if he'd been crying.

Janus tried to turn over again, but he couldn't put much pressure on his arm. 

God, how embarrassing..

"Could- could you.. help me up?" FUCK THATS SO EMBARRASSING HE PROBABLY THINKS YOU'RE A CREEP, OH GOD JANUS- 

Roman doesn't respond, and for a second Janus was ready to hide himself in a hole for all eternity, when he feels himself being lifted. 

"Sorry if this hurts," Roman whispered, before maneuvering Janus into a sitting position, being mindful of his injuries. 

Once Janus was sitting, he could see that Roman's eyes were slightly red and puffy and that it was 2:15am. 

He'd apparently slept through the night. 

"Did Logan..?" Janus didn't need to elaborate, and he didn't want to.

"Yeah, he said they'll heal in about two weeks." Roman replied, and his eyes were starting to look a lot like Patton's as they filled with concern. 

"Are you.. okay, though?" Fuck, Roman, of course he's not! 

If he was, we wouldn't be here right now.

"Sorry, stupid question-" Roman said quickly, as a follow-up. 

It was silent for a few uncomfortable seconds, before Roman asked, "why?" 

He'd been wondering that since Patton called for them in a panic, and they saw what state Janus was in. 

Janus was suddenly overwhelmed with shame. 

How didn't he notice they were back? 

Why'd he cut at all, he didn't know what time they'd be home, and he didn't wait until night, when he had less of a chance to be caught?

".. I don't-.. 'm sorry," Janus trailed off, guilt, shame, regret crashed over him in waves.

Roman reassured him, that it was fine, that he doesn't ( _and shouldn't_ ) need to apologise, and that Janus could talk about it when he's ready. 

Janus could talk about it when he was ready.

He.. doesn't know if he's ready yet, but for now, he's going to wait for the others to get up.

Maybe then he'll talk about it.

Maybe he won't.

Whatever he does, Roman promises it'll be okay.

It'll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> i apologize i can not write dialogue- or hopeful endings-
> 
> (also, happy halloween!!)


End file.
